Learning to Live Again
by The ORIGINAL Corky
Summary: Skittery has a nasty habit that is slowly turning him into something he isn't. Now it's up to his best friend Racetrack to step in and help him get clean before he gets himself killed. :Story originally posted under pen-name Corky Higgins:
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: I posted this story years ago under my old pen name of "Corky Higgins" so if any of you recognize it, that's why. I'm in the process of cleaning it up and making some adjustments but I figured I'd post what I've cleaned up so far anyways. So here it is...the reposting of my Skittery story..."Learning to Live Again"**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Newsies, don't own Skittery (but oooooh how I wish I did), don't own Racetrack (totally wish I did there also!). The only charries I own are my OC's. Wish doesn't belong to me either.**

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**Prologue**

It was a dark and rainy night at the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House. All the boys were asleep in their bunks, except one. An older boy around nineteen or so, who sat in his bunk biting his lower lip. His head was pounding and his heart was racing. Sweat drenched his long underwear and soaked his scruffy brown hair. His bloodshot eyes darted around the room, looking for any money that was carelessly left out. Spying a few silver coins laying under a younger boys bunk, he quietly jumped from his own and grabbed them up. Chuckling nervously, he pulled on his pants and slipped on a shirt. Lacing his boots onto his feet, he quickly and quietly slipped out the window and down the fire escape. Little did he know, he was being watched by a fellow newsie who was very late coming in that night.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Carry da banner! Come on! Carry da banner! Whad you doing? Up!" the old man named Kloppman called as he went around waking all the Newsboys up. Racetrack Higgins, stiff and sore from having to walk all the way back from Sheepshead Bay in the rain the night before, rose from his bunk and stretched out his arms and back. Looking over a few rows to the top bunk where his friend Skittery lay still sleeping, Race sighed and shook his head. Putting on his pants and suspenders, he walked over to him and smacked him alongside the head.

"Ey ya bonehead poke up! Time ta go! Get a move on!" Race said as Skittery moaned and mumbled a few choice words at him.

"Yeah, I'm up. I'm up." he finally said sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Race studied him carefully and noted that there wasn't something quite right with him that morning. Normally he would get up the first time Kloppman would smack him, but this time it took two people to wake him. Finally shrugging it off, Race headed into the washroom with the other newsies to get ready for another day of work. The washroom was already a loud and crowded chaotic scene when Race slid his way between two younger boys and up towards his friends.

"Ey Jack, did you sneak out last night ta go see Kidah?" Race asked walking up next to Mush and across from Jack to comb his hair and wash his face. Jack looked at him strangely and shook his head.

"No, why?" he asked.

"Cuz when I came in last night, I saw somebody sneak down da fiah escape and run off towards da Bronx, so I jist tought maybe it was you off ta see Kidah." Race answered as he slicked back his hair. He looked at his other best friend Mush and asked, "It wasn't you was it?"

"Naw, I stayed in last night. It was rainin'. No fun ta take a goil out when it's rainin'." He said before walking off to finish getting ready.

"I tink youse was jist seein tings Race." Crutchy joked as he hobbled past him. Race looked at him and gave his famous impersonation of Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn Newsies.

"Oh yeah? Yeah?" Race laughed stealing the towel from his crippled companion. "I know whad I saw, an' I saw somebody sneak out an' head ta da Bronx." He said wiping his face in the towel before Skittery could steal it from him. Everyone shrugged and continued with their daily routine. Just as everyone was heading out of the washroom, Skittery was heading in. Blink, Mush and Race all stopped to see what was going on with Skitts.

"Ey ya Skitts, hows it rollin?" Blink asked pulling out his first cigarette of the day. Skittery eyed it longingly then turned to the sink.

"It's rollin." He answered plainly, washing his face. He looked in the mirror and cringed. His eyes were red and still a little puffy. He splashed cold water on his face hoping the redness would go away. It did but only barely.

"So Skitts, whad ya plannin on doin taday? Sides from sellin dat is." Mush asked.

"Nothing. None a yer business." He said before heading into a stall. Mush and Blink looked at each other and then at Race who just shrugged.

"A'right well, if ya wanna come wid us aftah ya get done sellin, we're gonna go hang out in da park and flirt wid all da pretty ladies dat pass by." Mush offered. Race looked at them and laughed.

"You'll be flirtin'…I ain't gotta. I gots me a goil. Da best damn goil dis side a da Italian Alps." He said proudly in reference to his girlfriend Corky. Blink smacked him alongside the head and laughed.

"We know Higgins." He joked as they got into a mock fist fight.

"Well den don forget it!" Race laughed. Skittery walked out of the stall looking like his normal self and sighed.

"You guys are idiots ya know dat?" he asked walking past them.

"Yeah."

"We pride ourselves on it."

"It's a gift." They all answered. Skitts shook his head and grabbed his hat.

"So you gonna come floit wid all da goils latah or whad?" Mush asked as they all walked out of the lodging house and into the sunlight. Skitts thought for a minute and then shook his head no.

"Can't, got stuff I gotta do." He answered shortly.

"Moah important den floitin wid goils?" Mush questioned in shock. Race smacked him behind the head and looked at Skitts strangely.

"Whad kind a stuff?" he asked

Skittery shot him an evil glare but answered him anyways.

"Stuff! A'right now leave me alone!" the others watched in confusion as Skitts took off to the DC on his own that morning.

"Something ain't right wid 'im taday. He ain't usually like dat." Blink said as they headed off to go buy their papers.

"Maybe he's in anothah one o' his bad moods." Mush thought out loud. Race shook his head.

"No…not even in his worst moods would he act like dat. Deres sometin' else. An' I'se gonna find out whad it is."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Skittery walked around the city aimlessly. He had sold all of his papers and was looking for someplace hidden from the city where he could be alone. He thought about all the hiding places that the newsies would go to if they were being chased by the bulls but decided those might be too risky, after all, one never knew when one would be chased into hiding for pissing off the wrong person.

Finally, down by the docks, he spotted what he'd been looking for. The rundown old warehouse was boarded up and abandoned, probably had been for some time. It wasn't uncommon for a warehouse to be left for "dead" so to speak after it outlived its usefulness. Smiling to himself, Skittery ran over to the building and peered in through a broken window. It was dark and rather grimy inside with rats and mice scurrying about nervously. Thick dust layered the wooden boxes that had been left in the corners, forgotten by the world and hidden from sight. To the right, the soft glow of a fire could be seen, its light flickering shadows across the walls as it danced and crackled. Four or five raggedy looking men sat in a circle around it, talking quietly to one another. Skittery knocked on the board quietly and waited for one of them to notice him. A man with a salt and pepper beard looked up from the circle and squinted at Skittery. Tapping another man's shoulder, they got up and went to the opening.

"Whaddya want kid?" the man with the salt and pepper beard asked gruffly.

Skittery looked at the man who had approached him and noticed his stormy grey eyes were surrounded by a ring of red. His own chocolate brown eyes were dull and threatening as he answered, "I want in. Whad's it look like I want?"

The other man laughed roughly to himself. He liked a boy with a sense of humor. Tapping the bearded one, he moved to the side. Looking at the other man, the bearded one scowled and moved to the side, pulling the board up as he moved to allow Skittery entrance. Skittery nodded to him in thanks and ducked inside. Dust and dirt swirled around him as he bumped against a box, sending a few nervous rodents running. Taking a deep breath, he sighed contently to himself. He had never smelt anything as sweet as he did in that room.

"Whad ya smokin'?" he asked noticing the pipe on the ground next to an older looking man. This man was clearly of Native American decent, quite possibly full blooded Apache or Cherokee given his jet black hair and leathered tan skin. Dressed in animal pelt clothes adorned with brightly colored beads, the man looked as if he belonged in the Buffalo Bill Show.

"Peace pipe. Tontoe 'ere was sharin his pipe wid us. But yer too young to be smokin dis stuff." The bearded man said his voice gruff and harsh as he crossed his arms over his chest. Skittery turned to face him and scowled.

"Really? Wanna bet dat I ain't?" he asked.

"Yeah." The bearded man answered again. He took a step closer to Skittery and was ready to get nose-to-nose with the teen when the first man stepped between them.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. We are all adults here. If the lad thinks he can handle this pipe then he may have a go at it. In the mean time, dat dere sitting next to Tontoe is Frank, the man behind you is Otto, dat is Marcus, and I am Dodger. An' who might you be?" Dodger asked taking his shoulder.

"Skittery." He answered as Dodger led him over to the circle.

"Well Skittery, please sit, and by all means, share our pipe." Dodger said as he held the antique looking pipe out to him. Skittery smiled as he took it and looked it over. Hand carved out of a single piece of wood, it wasn't as fancy as some pipes he'd seen and it certainly looked as if it had seen far better days in its time.

"Very old. Was my grandfathers." Tontoe said as his eyes slowly closed.

"It's uh, nice." Skittery said. So it was a bit of a lie, but as a newsie, he'd grown quite good at improving the truth as Cowboy would put it. Placing it to his lips, he took a deep breath, inhaling a nice long drag from it.

Marcus and Otto watched him with narrowed eyes, just waiting for him to cough or gag. He didn't. Instead, he held it for a minute or two, and then exhaled slowly, a wisp of white smoke escaping his mouth and ghosting its way towards the ceiling. Letting a sly smile cross his lips, he handed the pipe back to Dodger and crossed his arms over his chest. Laughing, Dodger patted him on the back and looked to the other vagabonds.

"The boy certainly can hold his hash, I'll say dat for him."


End file.
